Hot for Teacher
by katieisamazingg
Summary: Exploring the forbidden student/teacher relationship of Rachel Berry and Cassandra July. Rated T for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: this originally was going to be a one shot, but I like where it's going, I think. Let me know in the reviews if you like it and want it to continue, please? Any feedback is much appreciated. :)

Carrying the basket of laundry, Rachel turned back around. The door was open a crack and she pushed it open slowly, so as not to disturb Miss July. Miss July lay on the ground again, in front of a full length mirror. She was laying on her side, propped on her elbow, facing away from Rachel's curious stare. Rachel watched on, watching as Miss July raised her leg above her head, stretching her thighs. Her hair was in a loose bun, back arched beautifully, skin-tight leotard emphasizing her flawless figure. Feeling as if she were intruding, Rachel cleared her throat.

Miss July raised her eyes from the ground and looked at Rachel in the mirror. "You already got your second chance in this class, what now, Schwimmer?"

Rachel opened the door, walked into the room and looked down. "I just -" She stopped, tried to gather her thoughts, and started again. "How do you deal with the rejection?" Before Miss July had a chance to respond, Rachel plowed on. "You're right, you know, I lost it over a silly dance class. Maybe I'm just tired or something, but, I don't know, there's just something about you that.."

She stopped talking, and blushed deeply. She had said something she hadn't meant to say. Miss July smirked.

"I'm that awful, Schwimmer?" Miss July asked. Still looking at her through the mirror, Miss July took a good look at Rachel. Even from where she lay, she could see the tears filling Rachel's eyes. In an instant, the over-confident student she had come to admire for her sheer audacity had become vulnerable, unsure, scared.

"Rachel," She chose to call her by her actual name this time, "put the basket down. Come over here." Rachel followed her instructor's orders; placing the basket down, she walked up behind Miss July. Miss July turned around, and patted the floor next to her, motioning for Rachel to join her.

Rachel sat across from her, hugging her knees to her chest. As she blinked back tears, Miss July spoke. "Look, making it here requires the perfect balance. Your vulnerability and naivety is what makes you a star. But without tough skin, they will eat you alive."

Miss July reached out as if to touch Rachel's arm, but thought better of it. Instead, she ran her fingers through her own hair.

"It's just so hard. I have never felt so unsure before. I was always the best, and now I'm..average." Rachel wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you are not average. You're a star amongst stars here. Why else would I be on your case ?" Miss July asked. "I don't waste my time on just anyone."

Rachel looked up. "You really mean that?" She asked.

"Yes." Miss July said with conviction. "Now enough with this crying nonsense. You need to save that for your pillow. Come help me." Miss July laid down again in front of the mirror, propped on her side. She patted her leg, indicating Rachel help her stretch.

Immediately, all thoughts about her insecurities left her. Her thoughts no longer lingered on her future, instead she only thought of the now. She dried her eyes. Rachel knelt down behind her teacher, placing her hand on the inside of Miss July's knee, pulling her leg upward. Goosebumps raised all over her body because of their proximity. Rachel took a deep breath to steady herself. She was surrounded by her teacher's perfume. Rachel closed her eyes, imagining she had the courage to act on her feelings.

Out of nowhere, Miss July laughed. Startled, Rachel let go of her leg.

"What?" Rachel asked accusingly.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about that ridiculous dance you did the other day. Did you return that underwear set to Walgreens yet?" Miss July scoffed, looking up at Rachel in the mirror. Rachel looked horrified.

Something inside Rachel changed in that instant. With total conviction Rachel lifted Miss July's leg back into its previous position.

"I will have you know, that outfit cost me over two hundred dollars." She pushed Miss July's leg a little higher than before. "And if it's the last thing I do, I will prove to you that I know how to be sexy." Rachel slid her hand further up Miss July's leg, gripping her by her inner thigh, inches from her midsection. Miss July's bottom lip quivered and she tried to cover it, but Rachel saw nonetheless.

Rachel pressed her body against Miss July's back. Her lips to Miss July's ears she whispered, "Understand? I will show you _just_ how sexy I can be." She slowly let go of her leg, trailing her fingers up Miss July's body, tucking her hair behind her ear. Rachel stood up, turned around, and walked away.

As Rachel reached the door, she stooped to pick up the laundry. Finally recovered from Rachel's actions, Miss July spoke to her as she walked out the door.

"Schwimmer. You'll have all the time in the world to prove it to me. Private sessions, once a week, for the rest of the semester."

Without responding, Rachel walked out the door. With a huge smile on her face, Rachel walked away down the hall, confident once again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: thanks for all the reviews! It took me a little longer than I hoped to loosely plan the story out. I hope you continue to review so that I have some helpful feedback. I hope you enjoy.

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Total silence engulfed her.

She stood on the hardwood floor barefoot. Sheer black tights coated her legs, skin-tight leotard wrapped around her body. Her hair pulled into a picturesque bun. Absent-mindedly, she shook her hands, as if her jitters would fall off her fingertips.

She told herself she was being ridiculous, that she had done this hundreds of times. Who was she kidding; she could hear the blood pounding in her ears, feel the butterflies in her stomach.

"Next!" Someone yelled. She took a deep breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her leotard, and entered stage right.

The stage was completely dark, the theater silent. She was on the stage alone, just the way she liked it. She had always liked working alone. No need to coordinate moves, no reason to share the spotlight. No one else to worry about. She ran through the steps in her head, although she knew her routine by heart. The stage lights went on.

In that instant, she transformed, as all the best performers do. The air of confidence about her was intoxicating. Her smile like a beauty queen's, she took to her opening pose. Her back was to the audience, one arm above her head, the other rested just below her bun. Her weight was shifted to one side, her hips off center.

"Queue music," called the voice that had beckoned her to the stage. Sweet, sexy jazz music began to play. She turned her head, lowered her arm, arched her back. These were the moments she lived for. This is when she felt at home. People she had trouble connecting with. Music was a part of her, music made the fire inside her burn bright. She never could articulate her feelings, but dancing was how she communicated with the world.

She started to dance. Her body was an extension of the music. Her performance impeccable, her technique flawless. Less than 20 seconds in, her music is cut off.

"Thank you. You'll hear from us," said the instructional mystery voice. The stage lights blinded her almost completely. Squinting, she shielded her eyes with we hands. As we eyes adjusted, she could see three figures in the audience. Three people who stood between her and a game-changing opportunity. Three people who hadn't had the decency to let her finish her audition piece.

"That's it? That's all I get?" She inquired rather indignantly.

Startled by her audacity, the three panel members looked up from their clipboards.

"Excuse me?" One of them, a male, says.

Since she can't see out past the lights, she continues in the direction she assumes the voice came from. "The least you could do is let me finish. I think I deserv-"

She was cut off. "Enough Cassandra. You are not right for the part. You're too old. I figured I was doing you by not dismissing you on first sight. But now that you have so rudely challenged me, I've had no choice but to tell you. Good day."

With that, she was dismissed.

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Arm in arm and giddy with excitement, Rachel and Kurt skipped home from their break in makeover.

"'I mean, I can't believe we broke into your work! Your work!" Rachel exclaimed, slightly out of breath from the skipping.

"I know! It was so.. Invigorating!" Kurt was as wound up as Rachel, high on their new lives. Enjoying the endless freedom.

"It's so silly, thinking about the things that used to feel so dramatic back home. I feel like a New Yorker already" Rachel said.

"I know, Blaine has been texting me about some senior class president stuff and I just wanted to be like 'well I am Isabelle Wright's latest partner in crime.' " Kurt responded. He stopped skipping, causing Rachel to stop.

"Will you just look at those boots ! Love!" Kurt, openly gawking, gestured to a gender-questionable prostitute working the corner across from them.

"Oh, I don't know about those Kurt. That's a little too New York for me." Rachel eyed the prostitute and then checked her watch, realizing it was nearly three in the morning. "Kurt, let's head home and get some sleep. Miss July has been kicking my ass lately and I need to be well rested if I'm going to withstand her scrutiny." They began to walk.

"We're barely going to get any sleep as it is, we both have hour long moisturizing regimens to complete before bed." Kurt said, but Rachel wasn't listening. Her thoughts wandered back to her one on one encounter with Miss July. It feels like forever ago now, but there was something different about Miss July that she couldn't quite identify. That whole thing in the dance room, Rachel was just proving that she could be aggressive, elusive, sexy. That she wasn't some small-town prude. She was just happy that she had made some sort of connection with her teacher, that she could learn from someone with the experience to help her become a star.

And yet. There was something there she couldn't put her finger on. Something… well, something more. She felt a weird pull towards her teacher, one she thought was of admiration, but now she wasn't so sure. She had felt this way a handful of times last year, but she just envied the blond Cheerio, right? Before her thoughts wandered any farther, she shook her head, a physical manifestation of trying to dispel her thoughts.

"— I mean Lady Gaga would never approve." Kurt had apparently been talking for a while and she had missed it all.

"Yeah." Rachel absentmindedly muttered.

"Honey Boo Boo, what's wrong?" Kurt ask, finally realizing that Rachel was visibly conflicted.

"How did you know you were gay?" Rachel asked. She had blurted it out, without really realizing what she was asking. She had clearly caught Kurt off guard. He looked at her with wide eyes and she plowed on, trying to cover her insecure tracks. "Oh, I don't mean for me, I was just. You see, there's this boy—"

Kurt cut in, saving her from figuring out the rest of the sentence. "A boy huh? Is he cute? Wait, what about Finn? Do you like this boy? What makes you think he's gay? Do you think he's gay? I'm confused."

"Uh..." was all Rachel managed.

Kurt took a moment to respond, thinking about his answer. He could tell that his best friend needed a serious response. "Well for me, I think I always sort of knew I liked boys. It wasn't some repressed thing inside me, like it was for someone like Santana. People like Santana and Blaine both had to figure it out. Some people don't even realize it themselves, for whatever reason. I don't know, Rach, everyone's kind of different."

"Alright then, thanks." Rachel responded. She wasn't even sure why she was asking. She was just a passionate person, and that carried over into all her relationships. She couldn't possible be interested in her teacher like that.

Kurt was puzzled by Rachel's question and how torn up she looked. He realized his response was lackluster and felt bad. Determined to help her with whatever it was, he added to his earlier response. "It's something you just know. It's a feeling. It just feels…right. It feels not forced. It feels free."

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"Schwimmer, are you serious right now? Get your head in it." Miss July barked at her, causing the students around her to scoff.

Rachel was lost in thought. Exhausted, too. She had stayed up most of the night, thinking about the conversation she had with Kurt. Turning her focus back to her dance class, Rachel realize she had no idea what was going on. She didn't even know what style of dance they were doing.

This was unlike her, to be so consumed by her thoughts that she couldn't focus. This woman made her mind go haywire. She looked over at her teacher, something she had been purposefully avoiding since she had not sorted out her confusing feelings. She couldn't resist any longer, though. Miss July looked amazing. Rachel wished she could pull off a leotard in the same way Miss July could.

Miss July stood scrutinizing everyone with a scowl on her face. She wore a black leotard that exposed almost all of her perfectly toned back. She wore classic pink ballet tights with black leg warmers. Rachel felt an ache in her stomach when she looked at her, a feeling she tried to convince herself was one of envy.

Miss July was on quite the rampage today. She had new insults for everyone, causing more than one girl to cry.

"Seriously, how many of you had Mommies and Daddies that told you everything you did was perfect? You all suck. I can't even look at you anymore. You're dismissed.'' And with that everyone began to pack up.

"Schwimmer. Get over here," she barked. Rachel walked over to her dance instructor, simultaneously elated and terrified. She stood there expectantly.

"Tomorrow, four o'clock. If you're late, you won't pass this class. Am I clear?" Miss July asked.

"Crystal," Rachel responded. Again conflicting feelings coursed through her, but as confused as she was, she was very excited about tomorrow.

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Cassie sat on the floor of her living room, chips in one hand, a pint of Ben and Jerry's in the other. Her best friend sat behind her on the couch, giving her a shoulder massage.

"Fuck." Cassie said. "Fuck, fuck fuck."

"Shh! Don't wake the baby! And stop swearing around her. If her first word is fuck, I will kill you." Her eyes darted to the portable playpen where her daughter slept soundly. She reached around Cassie to grab her glass of wine off the coffee table. She swirled a little and took a sip.

Cassie turned to face her friend. "It feels like yesterday that you and I had our first show. It was just an off Broadway performance of West Side story, but still." She paused to think. "How did I get here? Teaching was supposed to be a way to make money so I could get back into the business. There's too many fresh faces, young faces. Should I just stop trying?" She eyed her confidant.

"Cass, I don't know. I love teaching. I love coaching new minds. I made the decision to give up that fight when I decided to adopt. Do you want a family ? Have you thought about that kind of thing? 'Cause it will be hard to do both." Cassie's face look troubled, so she treaded lightly. "Look, Broadway is a young man's game. But you, you are amazing at what you do. Passionate, talented, a star. What it comes down to is this: where is your heart?"

The first thought that came to Cassie's mind was the brown haired, wide eyed diva from her class. She was just so damn hot. So forbidden. So innocent. Rachel got under Cassie's skin, made her feel things she hadn't felt about another person in a long, long time.

"That! That right there. God, if you could see your face right now. Whatever you were just thinking about, that's where your heart is. That's what you should do." She looked at the clock on the wall and finished her glass of wine. "I need to get her home," she said. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Please get my precious goddaughter home." Cassie lifted her up from the playpen, trying not to wake her. She held the child while her mother gathered her belongings. She gently kissed her goddaughter on the forehead handing her off.

"Goodnight, Beth." Cassie said, holding the door for them. "Night, Shelby. Text me when you're home safe."

Cassie shut the front door to her apartment, left alone to think about her career, her future, and the sexy brunette she had a private lesson with tomorrow.


End file.
